I sit on the edge of the settee in the formal living room. This room always made me antsy. It’s too stuffy, too fussy. What it needs is a broken-in couch and a table with a few nicks and…
Hell.
“I need to talk to that psychic. The one who predicted your match.” I point between my brother and Jessie.
“Hmmm.” Jessie’s brow pinches and she considers me for a minute. “I’m pretty sure you don’t.”
I shake my head. “I’m pretty sure I do.”
“Don’t.”
“Do.”
Will scowls at me. “Gavin, listen to your future sister-in-law. If she says you don’t. You don’t.”
Jessie flashes a smile at Will, and he smirks at her.
Jeez.
Is this what Jamie and I looked like when we were together?
I rub my chest at the thought.
“Will you tell me where she lives or not?”
“Not.” Jessie shrugs. “And with that, I’m off. I have a computer class to teach.” She presses a quick kiss to Will’s mouth and hops off his lap. “Gavin. Listen to someone with recent experience. You don’t need someone else to tell you what’s in your heart. Okay?”
I nod and Jessie flounces out of the room, Will watching her every move until she’s out of sight. Finally, with the click of the front door, he turns back to me, his eyes clearing.
“Where were we?”
I stifle a smile. I’ve never seen Will so happy. So settled. So himself. Not since before…before.
I lean forward, studying his face. “I’ve missed you.”
Will cocks his head. “I’m here anytime you need—”
“That’s not what I mean. I’m talking about before. When we were kids, when we did everything together and there wasn’t anything that could separate us. It feels like you’ve come back. I missed you.”
Will’s expression shifts, emotions cross over his face, and then he nods. “I always thought you were the only one I never let be taken away. But I was wrong, wasn’t I?”
I stand and nod toward the kitchen. “Come on, I’ll make you lunch.”
Will lifts his eyebrows. “Since when do you cook?”
* * *
Cornbread,not as good as Jamie’s. Chicken fried in the pan, not as good as Grandma Allwright’s. Iced tea, somehow not as sweet. But Will doesn’t seem to mind. Over lunch, sitting at the kitchen table, I tell him what happened when I stopped coming to interrupt his tutors and break him free of his studies. I tell him about the dark closet, how I lied because I thought I was protecting him, how after a while the truth didn’t seem to matter, how running became the only way I could live. How the both of us were trapped by what happened, and while Will had escaped the past, I never believed I had.
Will watches me solemnly while I retell the story of our childhood, reframing everything. His expression is as stoic as ever, but since he’s my twin, and I can read his face as well as my own, I know that he’s feeling everything again and he’s hurting for the both of us.
“I’m sorry for not telling you when we were kids.” My throat is so pained that not even iced tea can soothe it.
Will shakes his head. “No. Don’t be. The thing about suffering. It always feels worse if you think you’re going through it alone. But I promise, when you were there, I never felt alone. You’ve always been my best friend.”
I scrape my chair back and stand. “Come on. Give me a hug.”
Will scoffs. “I don’t hug.”